


desolate

by Asvang



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Heavy Angst, Multi, Polyamory, Season 2 Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asvang/pseuds/Asvang
Summary: They will never meet again, that’s what he thought there, among the sadness and stillness of his old – new, – home. Their paths shall never cross, because that’s what happens to monsters: they lose everything.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	desolate

**Author's Note:**

> Red_evil_twist, thanks for helping me with the translation :)
> 
> And, as English is not my first language, you are very welcome to point out the mistakes!  
> [By the way, I'm in a desperate need of a beta-reading at the moment, so if you have the time and the inclination to help with this, I would be happy to work with you!]

Adrian doesn’t expect them coming back. He remembers clearly the day they left him in the castle, the sun and wind bright and warm – spring finally prevailed. He remembers Sypha smiling at him and Trevor grumbling about something before their wagon disappeared into the horizon. They were on a journey of adventures and victories, the one Sypha had been waiting for so long, and the entire world seemed to greet them with the sound of singing birds, the sweet smell of pines in the air and breeze coming from the sea. They were slowly dissolving into the light; Sypha’s shining eyes, Trevor’s sarcastic grin. 

They will never meet again, that’s what he thought there, among the sadness and stillness of his old – new, – home. Their paths shall never cross, because that’s what happens to monsters: they lose everything. They stand on the land of ash, death and fear, chained to the place that haunts them most, and mourn the future they can’t have, no matter what they do. He, Adrian Tepes, murdered his own father, and it was a good thing, a sacrifice for the mankind. But _the son_ has to be punished for the crime, with all his love, and devotion, and sorrow. So Adrian was watching his _friends – his brother and sister bound to him by pain_ , – until they vanished completely and sand hid the wheel marks across the path. Even after that, he didn’t move. He stood at the gate, numb, and felt his heart bleeding.  
He didn’t realize how he got to the bedroom, or how he blew out the candles and cried, wrapping himself up in dusty blankets. Adrian didn’t want them to abandon him, but that was the closest he could get to the retribution, repentance, hell. Now every time he tries to sleep, rests by the river, comes down to the Belmont hold, darkness overflows him, conquers his very self, and stings, and burns, and eats him alive. 

Adrian never fights it – he gazes into the abyss. Under the swarming desolation and his own deafening scream, he finds the things he craves the most: flaming curls, long fingers scorched by firestorm (“It’s fine,” she laughs, “I’m a quick healer”) and quiet, a bit hoarse voice when she whispers the songs of her people, nearly dozing by the campfire or as a prayer over the villagers mauled by the night creatures. She always persuades him to take care of himself first, and only then lets him help her with the bandages and herbs; her skin is warm, smells like wormwood, smoke, thunder and sheer magic. It is dangerous, though he knows she would never harm him; that’s almost the only thing he is sure of, the only thing that keeps him sane.  
In the abyss, she takes him in her hands, her embrace serene and calm; he can finally breathe.  
In the abyss, Adrian finds _him_ – all sharp, hundreds of scars etching his body, behind each one there is a story he refuses to share. “Doesn’t matter,” he snorts, “The past is the past”, and Adrian doesn’t insist. Everyone has regrets they wish they could leave to the oblivion. The last surviving child of the forsaken hunter family must have many demons inside. The lost boy who was smart enough to survive, who could not live with injustice. The man pretending to be indifferent – and fighting for people even when they don’t want him to. His mask of detachment and insolence has almost tricked Adrian once; but he could _see_ him after all. Fragility behind deceptive ice and arrogance, softness of few honest words, protectiveness and painful loyalty he believes no one will take. But _they_ do. In the abyss, Adrian reaches him – leans towards him, surrounds him with blissful silence and all the powers he wields, so he would understand he doesn’t have to be a hero – or an outcast, – alone.

He misses them so much that it is going to kill him. An illusion of them by his side follows him under the stars, between the pages of the books he distracts himself by, when he hunts and goes fishing, when he speaks to the puppets and cleans the corridors from blood and bones. It blinds him when he welcomes two strangers to dine with him, and opens the vaults for them, and shows them the strength they could gain to destroy vampires. He hopes that Belmont would endorse the idea of bringing up the next generation of the hunters, raised under the Belmont ensign. He hopes that Sypha would be approval of him accepting humans as well as his mother did.

He makes a mistake, because the ghosts of his beloved ones cloud his vision.

When he puts the traitors on sticks, he thinks of nothing.  
He _prays_ that they will never return.


End file.
